Before the beginning of years,
There came to the making of man
Time, with a gift of tears;
Grief, with a glass that ran;
Pleasure, with pain for leaven;
Summer, with flowers that fell;
Remembrance fallen from heaven,
And madness risen from hell;
Strength without hands to smite;
Love that endures for a breath;
Night, the shadow of light,
And life, the shadow of death.
And the high gods took in hand
Fire, and the falling of tears,
And a measure of sliding sand
From under the feet of the years;
And froth and drift of the sea;
And dust of the laboring earth;
And bodies of things to be
In the houses of death and birth;
And wrought with weeping and laughter,
And fashioned with loathing and love,
With life before and after,
And death below and above,
For a day and a night and a morrow,
That his strength might endure for a span,
With travail and heavy sorrow,
The holy spirit of man.
From the winds of the north and the south,
They gathered as unto strife;
They breathed upon his mouth,
They filled his body with life;
Eyesight and speech they wrought
For the veils of the soul therein,
A time for labor and thought,
A time to serve and to sin;
They gave him light in his ways,
And love, and a space for delight,
And beauty and length of days,
And night, and sleep in the night.
His speech is a burning fire;
With his lips he travaileth;
In his heart is a blind desire,
In his eyes foreknowledge of death;
He weaves, and is clothed with derision;
Sows, and he shall not reap;
His life is a watch or a vision
Between a sleep and a sleep.

To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty; and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
Comes a still voice.

................................

So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Wisdom 3:1-9
1: But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.
2: In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be an affliction,
3: and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace.
4: For though in the sight of men they were punished, their hope is full of immortality.
5: Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good, because God tested them and found them worthy of himself;
6: like gold in the furnace he tried them, and like a sacrificial burnt offering he accepted them.
7: In the time of their visitation they will shine forth, and will run like sparks through the stubble.
8: They will govern nations and rule over peoples, and the Lord will reign over them for ever.
9: Those who trust in him will understand truth, and the faithful will abide with him in love, because grace and mercy are upon his elect, and he watches over his holy ones.

You may not find it in all editions of the Bible, but certainly in Catholic ones.

Farewell tonight
To all joy and to all the life
Go on, go peacefully
We can't keep your majesty
Be on your way

Make may for the last king of May
And make a cardboard crown for him
And make your voices one
Praise the crazy mother's son, who loved his life

Farewell today
Travel on now
Be on your way
Can't bear the very thought that we
That we could keep your majesty
Be on your way

Make way for the last king of May
And make a hole in the cloud for him
Raise your voices up
Drink your loving cup
To his long life
To his long life
Make way for the last king of May
Make a hole in the sky for him
And raise your voices up
Lift your loving cup
To his long life
His long life

And raise your voices up
Lift you loving cup
To his long life
To his long life
His long life
His long life

Frozen Charlotte

Blue like the winter snow in the full moon
Black like the silhouettes of the trees
Late blooming flowers lie frozen underneath the stars
I want you to remember me that way

Far away... I'll be gone, will you wait for me here
How long... I don't know, will you wait for me here

Still as the river grows in December
Silent and perfect blinding ice
Spring keeps her promises
No cold can keep her back
I want you to remember me that way

Far away... I'll be gone, will you wait for me here
How long... I don't know, but wait for me here
Follow... don't follow me
To where
To where I go

Far away... I'll be gone, will you wait for me here
How long... I don't know, will you wait for me here
Follow... don't follow me, to where I have gone
Follow... don't follow me, to where I have gone
Someday you'll take my place
And I'll wait
For you there

I hate (sorry...) poems that mention "the other room".
"river bends", "I did not die:, etc

so ... my choice is :

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, --
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave,
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

When you attend a funeral,
It is sad to think that sooner or
Later those you love will do the same for you.
And you may have thought it tragic,
Not to mention other adjec-
Tives, to think of all the weeping they will do.
But don't you worry.
No more ashes, no more sackcloth.
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day never more adorn a sleeve.
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too,
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve.

And we will all go together when we go.
What a comforting fact that is to know.
Universal bereavement,
An inspiring achievement,
Yes, we all will go together when we go.

We will all go together when we go.
All suffuse with an incandescent glow.
No one will have the endurance
To collect on his insurance,
Lloyd's of London will be loaded when they go.

Oh we will all fry together when we fry.
We'll be french fried potatoes by and by.
There will be no more misery
When the world is our rotisserie,
Yes, we will all fry together when we fry.

Down by the old maelstrom,
There'll be a storm before the calm.

And we will all bake together when we bake.
There'll be nobody present at the wake.
With complete participation
In that grand incineration,
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak.

Oh we will all char together when we char.
And let there be no moaning of the bar.
Just sing out a Te Deum
When you see that I.C.B.M.,
And the party will be "come as you are."

Oh we will all burn together when we burn.
There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn.
When it's time for the fallout
And Saint Peter calls us all out,
We'll just drop our agendas and adjourn.

You will all go directly to your respective Valhallas.
Go directly, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dolla's.

And we will all go together when we go.
Ev'ry Hottenhot and ev'ry Eskimo.
When the air becomes uranious,
And we will all go simultaneous.
Yes we all will go together
When we all go together,
Yes we all will go together when we go.

Interesting. I searched a lot of the web and usenet groups and found many reports the rumo(u)r is true, many it never happened. WVB being a public figure, I would suspect he could NOT successfully sue for such jibes, at least not in the USA.

Tom Lehrer is apparently teaching math at USC, so Pam could pop over and ask him, sure.

I didn't see the TV coverage of Reagan's funeral, but a newspaper collumnist mentioned the fact that the pallbearers carried the coffin at kneeheight like a suitcase and recalled the same at previous presidential funerals. In Britain a coffin is always carried at shoulder height. Is the lower level for carrying normal in the US? Or only at certain times?

Well, I don't think I ever saw a coffin being carried at shoulder-height, except on tv when the queen died in England. So I would assume that yes, Americans customarily carry the coffin suticase style.